


Life on the Inside

by SummerMermaid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21662077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerMermaid/pseuds/SummerMermaid
Summary: Claude is tired of fighting.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 240





	Life on the Inside

Claude was restless.

At least, that was how Lorenz had come to interpret this sort of behavior from him. The unnervingly silent pacing back and forth, the way that he scratched at his temple. It was gestural. Claude only seemed to articulate the depth of his emotions when they could connect them to some sort of combat strategy. It hadn’t always been this way, of course. 

Lorenz almost resented that he could chart these things in the first place. Back at the Academy, he couldn’t read Claude anymore than he could the texts from other lands that sat in the corners of the library. And yet, these days it seemed like he knew Claude better than anyone else. This realization was perhaps the most detrimental to his mind, because it led to the realization that Claude might have always been the closest thing he’d ever had to a proper friend, even back when they would do nothing but butt heads. 

When Lorenz surveyed his fellow Deer, he only seemed to see those to whom he’d been constantly making amends for his former self. It was as if there were two pieces of him, the boy that had attended the Officer’s Academy, and the man that had come from its ashes. He was not sure if they were entirely separate yet, and that thought scared him more than anything. It was an exhausting way to live.

Regardless, Claude seemed constant through these phases of his life. Making his blood burn, leading their house, shifting in his mind’s eye from a rival to an ally to … whatever type of person it was that was standing before him in the remnants of their dormitories. Standing was putting it generously, though. Right then, Claude was turning on his heel and making another trek through the cramped space. Lorenz’s eyes followed his form, barely lit by a single lamp in the room on one side and by the moon on the other.

He tried to ignore Claude’s objectively subtle gestures that felt all too loud to him, minding the weaponry he’d received back from the blacksmith. He busied himself with the notion that he hadn’t already been assured of his successful repair, trying to find breaks in the metal that he knew didn’t exist. Anything to keep his noticing of Claude’s idiosyncratic demeanor quiet.

“You saw how he was bleeding, right?”

Lorenz’s head whipped up. Claude’s back was still to him, the white strips of moonlight casting outlines over his form. His hands were behind his back, bare as his gloves laid on the table beside his bed. Lorenz glanced between the abandoned gloves and the hands, as if their distance was the source of this.

“Who?” he finally answered. 

“Ferdinand,” Claude said shortly.

“Ferdinand?” Lorenz wrinkled his nose. “Why on earth are you bringing him up all of a sudden?”

Claude didn’t move, his eyes still cast towards the inky sky outside of the window. They hadn’t been in this dormitory back in school. Lorenz tried to stretch his mind a bit, attempted to recall who had once called these beds home. It couldn’t seem to come to mind. Five years felt a lifetime ago now.

“He died,” Claude said. His voice could have passed for a whisper in a room that wasn’t as silent.

“I’m quite aware of that,” Lorenz said. “I was there when Leonie finished him off.”

From the short distance between them, he thought that he heard Claude scoff. “You make it sound like he was an insect.”

Lorenz frowned, setting down the weapon now that he had no reason to pretend he was worried for it. “I’m not sure I follow where this conversation is going, Claude. We had to kill him. He would have gotten us first if we hadn’t.”

The words felt strange in his mouth, strange to be about Ferdinand. They weren’t particularly close at school, but Lorenz had always found him to be inoffensive enough. Any flaws he’d found in him were certainly not enough to warrant murder on the battlefield. Unfortunately, their fates had put them on opposing sides and well-armed. And war was what it had always been. And Ferdinand was not with them anymore.

“I don’t think I like it,” Claude said. 

“I don’t think anyone likes doing that sort of thing,” Lorenz said. “Even Leonie, as … excitable as she may get when she’s in the midst of the process.”

“I’m not joking around, you know.” Claude turned to face him, hands still behind his back. The pose felt ill-suited, Lorenz thought. His eyes were too serious. But then, wasn’t a leader meant to be composed and hardened? Perhaps. He wasn’t sure if Claude was supposed to be those things, though.

“I’m not joking either, Claude,” he said. “Why would I not be serious about this kind of thing? Do you think I’m getting some kick out of slaughtering our classmates?”

Claude stared at him, and he did so for a long time. Lorenz suddenly felt as if he’d become the subject of the conversation somehow. There was a familiar heat caught in Claude’s eyes now, one that Lorenz had come to recognize. A slow thump began to echo in the room as his boots crossed the floor between them. 

Lorenz took a moment to realize his breathing had stopped, and he urged himself to be composed even as he mediated on what might come next. Claude reached out and took a small strip of Lorenz’s straight hair into his hand. He appeared to be examining it.

“Well, you won’t find any of Ferdinand’s blood there,” Lorenz mumbled before he could even grasp what he’d said. His face went warm with humiliation when it registered. In his mind’s eye, he saw Ferdinand at the stables, staring at horses with a sort of reverence. He was young. They were all so young.

“I’m sorry,” Lorenz whispered. “That was completely inappropriate. Please accept my apologies.”

“I’m not a lady-in-waiting, Lorenz,” Claude said, still holding the strands of hair between his fingers. “And I understand. Our minds aren’t completely in place right now.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Lorenz said. Claude was studying his face now, his eyes searching his features. Lorenz knew what was coming, and he felt his own pulse in his wrists, heightening and scouring his veins with heat in anticipation. There had been nights like this before, of course. It was lonely. It was only fair.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Claude said, “if you’re too soft for this sort of thing.”

Lorenz blanched, raising a hand to swat Claude’s away. “I beg your pardon?” he said. “I could say the same about you. When have you ever seemed equipped for this? I’m so sure you’d rather be riding that Wyvern for pleasure rather than warfare.”

This was a lie, of course. Lorenz knew by this point that Claude was, without a shred of doubt, the best of them to lead the Alliance. 

The slightest hint of a smile appeared on Claude’s face, unflinching as Lorenz had thought. He was unshakable. Lorenz, meanwhile, seemed eternally built on sand.

“See what I mean?” Claude simply replied. He placed his index finger under Lorenz’s chin, attempting to tilt it upward. Against his better judgement, Lorenz obliged. “You’re sensitive.”

“And what of it?” Lorenz murmured, too acutely aware of the brief whisper Claude’s flesh upon his. 

“I like it,” Claude said in a low voice. Lorenz’s face flushed anew, but for a different purpose. He hoped against hope that the limited lighting would hide his shame, but the smirk building on Claude’s face told him that this was for naught. 

“Must you always toy with people?” Lorenz countered, trying to regain some footing. A fool’s errand, of course. Nothing that he ever said seemed to perturb his brave leader. 

“No, I mustn’t,” Claude said. “But I will admit that you make it the most fun.”

“Oh, do go on,” Lorenz said in a sarcasm-drenched tone. He raised his hand again, gently slapping at Claude’s. To no avail, however, as Claude simply shifted his touch to the curve of Lorenz’s jaw, the jut of his sharp cheekbones, the subtle ridge of his brow.

“What in the world are you doing?” Lorenz asked, though he had stopped trying to get him to cease his games. What point was there in pushing him away when he didn’t truly want that? Not that he would make it easy.

“I want to remember you,” Claude said. His fingers went back to Lorenz’s hair, combing through the straight curtain that fell beside his cheek. “We could be gone tomorrow, after all.”

Lorenz rolled his eyes. “You’re impossibly gauche. No men really talk like this.”

“If you’d like me to stop, I can,” he offered. He brought his fingers to Lorenz’s lips now, and he was able to feel his companion’s breath catch on the skin of his index. Claude smiled.

“What?” Lorenz said, his face uncomfortably hot just by these odd gestures. “What is the meaning of all of this?”

The smirk seemed to have melted. The look on Claude’s face had become something all too sincere, so much so that it sent a bolt of fear down into Lorenz’s gut. 

“You know,” Claude said, “I enjoy being with you.”

“I must say it’s better than it used to be,” Lorenz said tartly.

“No,” Claude responded. There was something strange in his voice, something that Lorenz couldn’t name. “No, I mean that I enjoy laying with you.” 

Lonrenz felt as though he’d been the one who’d been lanced. His eyebrows knitted, and he stared up at Claude with that bolt of fear now churning into a small storm in his body. There were too many signals going off, and they were all terrifying. 

“Claude, we’ve never made love,” he blurted out, and felt himself sink deeper into mortification. True, they had spent those nights beside each other, feeling the other’s skin just to have something warm to feel at all. Claude’s lips had been on his, Lorenz had opened his mouth to him more than a few times. But they had never thought to cross that one line, the one that seemed so final and yet so tempting. 

Lorenz had thought about it. Oh, he had thought about it. But how in the world could he go asking Claude for that sort of thing? They were always busy with matters of blood and bowstrings anyway. The moments that they had spent together so intimately had been sporadic and impromptu. And Claude was so beloved. If he were to spend time with anybody, Lorenz was surprised that he’d even received what he’d already had.

“We should try,” Claude whispered. “If you’d like.”

Lorenz felt as if he couldn’t breathe once again. Claude’s hands were still roaming his features, leaving anxious and wanting flesh in their wake. In a moment of weakness, he found himself leaning just a touch into Claude’s palm as it rested on his cheek.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mumbled in spite of himself.

“Lorenz, all we do all day is fight and plot and scheme. I want to do something that doesn’t feel devastating for once.” 

He leaned down and pulled Lorenz’s face to his, giving one of those familiar kisses that felt like a transaction. It was an initiation process, a way that they sealed off that yes, indeed, this was how they would behave around each other for the night. Lorenz lifted one of his own hands, pressing slender fingers around Claude’s, as if to try and keep him there.

“Don’t be foolish,” Lorenz mumbled into the heat of his lips. Claude carried on, ebbing and flowing as they met and parted in uneven waves.

“Ah,” Claude said between continued kisses, “Doubting your leader. So shameful.”

He pressed forward still, and Lorenz leaned back against the bed. They shifted until Claude was able to crawl on top, straddling his waist as his tongue found Lorenz’s. Soft, pliant noises escaped Lorenz, and Claude couldn’t help but chuckle. He always did. He was right, Lorenz thought as they went, he was soft. He couldn’t tell if he resented it in the moment, heat burdening his entire body.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Lorenz said finally, pulling away though he very much regretted doing so. “Claude, you ought to not busy your mind with things like this. We have to plan our next mission. Professor Byleth won’t be happy if you’re not at your fullest potential.”

When he finally looked up at Claude, his face was eerily serious, as if his words had made an unexpected impact.

“No more,” Claude merely said. “No more talk of that. Not tonight.”

“Claude, I’m -”

“Do you want this?” Claude asked, his voice intense with that same strange energy Lorenz couldn’t figure out. “Please, tell me if you want this. That is my only question.”

Lorenz stared at him, as if enough of it would make him change his mind and decide that strategy was more important than whatever this would become. It had to be.

“I do,” he admitted. 

“Then be here with me.” He pressed his body into Lorenz’s, and Lorenz nearly gasped at the feeling of Claude hard against his inner thigh. Defying his better judgment, merely following the whims of that burning in his chest, Lorenz opened his legs to invite him closer. He could feel himself beginning to thicken as well, and something about the reciprocity seemed equal parts shameful and tantalizing.

“I don’t understand you,” Lorenz whispered. Claude went back to his mouth, seeking more intensely than before. Lorenz’s hands went to his shoulders, feeling the briefest layers that he wore under his garments and armor. Lorenz’s mind was dizzied with getting to fully understand what was beneath, to take on the parts he’d only so briefly tasted before in their curious nights together. He wondered if they would speak of this in the morning, or let it wash away with the sunrise like all the times before.

“Don’t concern yourself with understanding me,” Claude said gruffly, his hands going to Lorenz’s waist. “Just think about what’s going on right now. Forget everything else. Just forget it.”

Something about his tone was so odd. It was as if Claude was talking to himself just as much as he was to him. 

Lorenz’s thoughts were sent quickly adrift as he felt Claude thrust into him, the fabric of their pants making a soft sound as they came together. He gasped, a bit too loudly for his own preference, and he removed a hand from Claude’s forearm to cover it.

“No,” Claude said, gently pulling it away. “I want to hear you.” 

Lorenz thought he might just be feverish as Claude continued to rut against him. “I can’t,” he gasped. 

Claude bucked his hips forward, and Lorenz whimpered. Sensitive. That word kept rattling around in his lust-fogged mind in a kind of cacophony. There were just too many ways to be sensitive.

“Don’t worry about them,” Claude said. “Worry about yourself. Worry about me. Forget the rest of it.” 

Lorenz cried out from the rush of a particularly hard thrust, Claude’s cock pushing onto his through the layers of fabric they usually only wore to bed. It was so hot, stiflingly so, and Lorenz had to gasp again just to keep apace of his breathing. Claude, as usual, was unwavering, grunting only slightly as he continued his motions. Lorenz felt dizzy.

“What’s wrong with you?” he managed, finding his hands gripping Claude’s shoulders. “You’re being so …” What was he being? Businesslike? Overly-efficient? Either way, it felt as if Claude wasn’t completely in the room.

“I only want to focus on this,” Claude said. He pushed his hips up again, forcefully but not harshly, and Lorenz let out an almost guttural noise. How did Claude expect them to actually make love like this? Lorenz would make a mess of his pants within minutes if he kept this up. 

“Are you okay?” Claude asked, suddenly stopping.

“Ah?” Lorenz blinked, staring up at him. The daze inside his head reminded him of when they’d travel, passing by mountaintops that jut so high into the clouds that the mist obscured them. Too high to be understood by those below. “I’m … fine, I suppose, given what we’re up to.”

“I don’t know if fine is good enough for this sort of thing,” Claude said. “I want us to do this together.”

Lorenz frowned. Perhaps his own anxieties had been mistaken for a lack of reciprocation. Of course Claude would fret over that, ever the gentleman. Lorenz ducked his head downward slightly, letting his now-messed hair fall into his face in an attempt to hide the flush that wouldn’t cease. 

“Aren’t we?” he asked, lacking better words. How unbecoming. His father would be ashamed. Then again, wouldn’t the insurmountable shame of being Claude’s conquest in a fit of mutual wartime solitude make that seem negligible in comparison?

“I worry about you,” Claude said. Lorenz wrinkled his nose.

“Thank you for your concern, but I assure you that I can take care of myself.” Suddenly, the heat of moments ago had melted away, and it was back to the usual, the comfortable -- if not less satisfying. Lorenz sighed. It was as if he never stopped wearing armor, and he couldn’t seem to give in to the opportunities when others tried to help him remove it.

“There’s no need to be so stubborn all the time,” Claude said. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to his forehead, so gentle compared to the friction that had just gone on between them. “It’s only us here.”

“I think you underestimate your clout,” Lorenz said, staying in place lest Claude cause them to part again. Part of him hated that he itched for him to be so close now. He was terrified of losing whatever had begun there, terrified that Claude would realize that this was indeed a mistake and go speak to the Professor or consult with his maps again. 

Perhaps Lorenz would have to swallow his pride if he wanted this. After all, he could be gone tomorrow.

“Claude,” he said, wishing he could mute the sound of his voice reverberating in his own ears. 

“Yes?”

“Please,” Lorenz said, “carry on.”

Claude cocked an eyebrow when Lorenz dared to look up at him, and he felt his face reheat. Outside of the dormitory, someone’s steps creaked by, on the way to some errand without any inkling of what was transpiring behind their door. Lorenz looked towards it, his mouth a tightened curve of anxiety. Claude, the stalwart leader, gently brought him to the wall where the bed was set and pressed his lips upon his jaw.

Lorenz stifled a noise, and realized that he found some peculiar thrill in the way the heat of Claude’s mouth and the passing of a comrade coexisted. He allowed himself one audible, shallow breath, and he could feel Claude’s lips curling into a smile upon his skin. Another choked sound escaped Lorenz, and he began to feel a sense of boldness. What would a soldier do if they were caught, anyway? 

Claude’s hands made their way to the hem of Lorenz’s shirt, reaching beneath the thin material and looking for some kind of salvation in his flesh. His fingers traced through as if it were something delicate. Lorenz was definitely still hard, and he winced as he could feel a stain building on his pants. He decided to take Claude’s advice and let go of his arrogance, wrapping his legs around his waist to beckon him closer.

“You ever think about the nature of his sort of thing?” Claude murmured against his throat before issuing a small, heated bite. Lorenz gasped. “Humans, sometimes they get so enamored with each other that they just try to get closer and closer. Then they make themselves one.”

“When have you found the time to consider this?” Lorenz said, pushing a hand into Claude’s dark hair. “Don’t tell me this is what’s on your mind when we’re on the battlefield.”

“Shh,” Claude said, turning up to kiss him, soft and sweet. “Like I said, no more of that tonight.” He undid the buttons on Lorenz’s shirt, coaxing off the sleeves with some help from the wearer and leaving his partner exposed. Claude smiled down at him in a way that seemed proud. Lorenz sighed.

“Come on,” he said, raising his hands to Claude’s own nightshirt. “It won’t do for me to be the only one like this.”

Lorenz’s hands shook slightly as they opened oft-closed buttons and exposed skin and muscle that was always kept from his sight. He recalled those prior nights, his fingers on Claude’s arms as he kissed him, his hands grazing his collarbone. Even on nights like that, the clothes had stayed on. And of course, Lorenz wondered what was beneath. 

It was indeed as beautiful as he’d expected. Claude was made of carefully carved muscles, but just lean enough to be agile as an archer. A trail of dark hair traveled from his stomach to the waistband of his smallclothes, beneath which Claude’s arousal swelled prominently between his thighs. Lorenz swallowed, and it nearly caught in his throat from the sheer trepidation consuming his insides. 

Lorenz told himself that he would have to accept the potential humiliation if this, that it would be worth it. There was no rule that said he couldn’t appease his desires like this. Claude wanted him too. This was permissible, even if word of it never left that bed. 

“Here.” Claude got up and invited Lorenz to shift so they were positioned more properly atop the sheets, allowing them more space. There was an odd glow to him, a look on his face that made Lorenz entertain the thought that he was actually pleased about all of this.

“You’re awfully courteous,” Lorenz said, trying to stifle his own smile. “But …” The words left his mouth before he could stop himself. This was a time of war. There was no time for cowardice, whether it be in the battlefield or the bedroom. He would seize what he wanted when it was being offered to him. 

“But what?” Claude said, leaning over him. Heat seemed to emanate from his skin, and Lorenz, without thinking, reached out to run his fingers along his arms. 

“I want to touch you first,” Lorenz said. “Before we …” He sighed. Why couldn’t he seem to find the words? Were there even words for the things that men did alone together? There had to be. Lorenz just wasn’t yet wise enough to understand, a concept he had come to grapple with quite a bit lately. 

Claude, of course, was bemused by this idea. “Of course,” he said, taking one of Lorenz’s hands and kissing its knuckles. “Whatever you’d like.”

Lorenz thought briefly of Claude’s demeanor around others as he began to remove his underclothes. It was an awful thing to think about right then, when he was getting fresh access to something he’d only wondered about, alone and overwhelmed in his bed, or when Claude was sleeping beside him after a harried evening of unfulfilled touches. Even as this moment awaited him, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was just a drop in the ocean of Claude’s no-doubt expansive list of suitors. 

These thoughts did eventually clear out as the final bit of clothing on Claude came off, fully exposing himself to Lorenz as he sat back on his own knees on the mussed sheets. Lorenz tried not to stare, but what else was there to catch his eye? He’d never actually seen another man fully nude before, and now he was initiated with Claude. He supposed there were fortunes even in times of great desperation.

“Well?” Claude said. He leaned towards Lorenz and kissed him again, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as if to draw his mind back into its skull. Lorenz whimpered the tiniest bit, earning a laugh from Claude.

“Forgive me if I’m not as good as all your other bedmates,” Lorenz mumbled upon his mouth. Claude’s hand found his in the darkness made up of skin and oppressive desire, and led Lorenz’s fingers to the flesh between his legs. Lorenz made a point to not gasp, to not act virginal and chaste. This was what he had asked for. He was prepared to receive. He was prepared to give.

“You’re thinking a bit too highly of me there,” Claude said, his hand still over his. “You’re the first lover I’ve had in years.”

In spite of his efforts, Lorenz’s breath hitched. Somehow, Claude using that word to describe him had shaken him more than anything else he’d experienced that night.

But, no. He couldn’t dwell. Those sort of ruminations were for when he was alone and needed to keep his mind active and itching for something. For now, he had to take advantage of what he had been so generously given.

His fingers wrapped gently around Claude’s shaft, hot and sensitive under him. Claude let out a strong breath, his nostrils flaring as he adjusted to the feeling. Had he really not been to bed with someone in so long? 

“I must say,” Lorenz said, beginning a slow, gentle stroke against his cock, “I’m surprised. I know that more than a few people seem eager to be at your side like this.”

“Ah,” Claude said, his breath quickening just a bit, “I wouldn’t bet on it. Either way, I’m not just throwing myself at anyone who’ll have me.” He brought his mouth back to Lorenz’s neck, trying to suck out a mark just above his collarbone.

“You’re different, though,” he breathed into his throat. 

Lorenz’s body was inundated with a torrent of something scorching that threatened to burn him alive, just from those three words. He’d nearly forgotten his intentions when Claude made his way to his ear: “Have you given up on me already?”

Lorenz’s insides threatened to rebel, to force him to lay back and demand that Claude undo him so thoroughly that the blaze inside of him would finally be fed. But no, he’d told Claude that he’d wanted to do this -- and he still did, even with all of the distractions. He twisted his head slightly, beckoning Claude’s mouth to find his again, reinitiating the familiar ritual of their tongues and sounds of wanting.

His hand moved slowly, carefully up and down in a thoughtful motion, wanting to please Claude but not to finish him off before Lorenz could get what he had been so kindly promised. 

“You’re teasing me, Lorenz,” he murmured hotly against his mouth. “That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

“I’m not setting out to be one right now,” he countered. 

“Good answer.” Claude leaned into his touch, spreading his thighs open further on the bed. Lorenz tried to memorize the feelings of Claude’s skin, the warmth of his body and even the slight starchiness of the old sheets beneath them. This night would have to be used to carry his mind to someplace sweeter at some point in the future, he knew that much already.

“So slow,” Claude mumbled after a few moments more. He moved his hands down to Lorenz’s thighs, running his hands along the material that remained over his own cock. “I want you now.”

Lorenz swallowed air recklessly, like he was at risk of drowning. “Maybe I don’t want to rush things,” he offered finally, his hand still working Claude methodically. 

  
“Come here,” Claude said, nudging him closer. He hooked his fingers into Lorenz’s smallclothes and pulled them down, allowing them both to be completely bare. It felt so implausible, and yet it had become their reality. Lorenz supposed that this was inevitable, that for every day of their continued survival, their paths would continue to run parallel until they finally crossed like this. They couldn’t have just sustained themselves on clothed touches forever. 

He was glad for it to be this way.

Claude was kissing him again now, emphatically, with one hand on each side of Lorenz’s jaw, as if he’d lose him if he let go. Lorenz groaned into his mouth, his hands finally leaving Claude’s cock and traveling over his thighs, his abdomen, his chest, anywhere that would have him. It was just as Claude had said to him not long ago -- he wanted to remember him as well. Maybe, when he was inevitably struck down by Edelgard or Dedue or one of those former friends, he could think back to this fervent oasis in their years of war.

“I want you,” Claude mumbled into him still, his breathing hurried and uneven. “I want you, Lorenz, let me have you.”

Lorenz couldn’t even bother to focus on the unfamiliar, intoxicating rush these words were injecting into his blood. All he could think about was Claude. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted from that night, anyway? For their lovemaking to push away all the rest? Yes, Lorenz thought, this could do just fine. Him and Claude, wanting and breathing and burning together as if the world outside of that wooden door was just a nightmare. 

Lorenz eventually found himself pushed to the headboard, and Claude was between his legs again, his hands holding onto Lorenz’s hips with the intent to keep him firmly in place. Lorenz saturated himself in these feelings. They were raw and they were real, and the bloodshed and schemes didn’t have to be, if only temporarily. Claude kissed incessantly at his shoulder, his clavicle, his neck. Any skin was a potential spot to stake his claim. Lorenz imagined his body, laid out on a bloodsoaked field but still bearing those marks. Claude could last weeks on his flesh.

“You’re distracted,” Claude murmured into his ear. “I told you, Lorenz, just be here.”

Lorenz wondered how he could tell -- did he already know his body so intricately?

“I can’t help it,” Lorenz said finally, finding words in a haze of sex. “You must admit that it’s nearly impossible to keep everything that’s going on off of my mind.”

Claude paused for a moment, his hands still resting on Lorenz’s hips. Lorenz frowned. Now he’d done it. Claude would decide that this whole effort wasn’t worth it, all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut long enough to get fucked properly. Again, Lorenz was showing his true worth.

“You’re right,” Claude said. He brought Lorenz’s lips to meet his, and they sat in that quiet for just a moment, only the soft sounds of their kissing punctuating the empty air. 

When Claude finally pulled away, he stared at Lorenz for quite some time. Lorenz began to worry anew that this was the end of the road for what he’d hoped would have been a fairly momentous occasion. Something in Claude’s face had gone from intense to weary. 

“You know, you’re quite beautiful,” Claude said finally. That old heat poured itself down Lorenz’s face, flowing through his entire body. Somehow that one declaration was even more humiliating than the nudity and the likelihood of being overheard combined.

“What are you on about?” Lorenz sputtered, raising a hand to hide his no doubt contorted expression that would stand in direct contradiction to Claude’s bold words.

“You know what I said,” Claude answered, gently pulling the hand away. “And I mean that. I used to think you were just spoiled and selfish. But I think you’ve become something more profound than you even realize.”   
  


“Ah, and that’s why you wanted to bed me,” Lorenz said with a bit of dryness, “my profundity.”

“I meant externally, too,” Claude said, kissing one of his shoulders. Lorenz blushed yet again, but said nothing. “But I like that you think about the things that you say and do now. The older I get, the less interested I am in recklessness. That only leads to trouble.”

He continued to gently press his lips to the places on Lorenz’s body where he’d been biting, sucking, consuming moments ago. “I can’t live a life where I run into everything, knock a few arrows, count the bodies and go home,” he went on. “I used to think that maybe I could.”

Lorenz, who had been staring at the cracks in the walls while Claude presided over his body, listened carefully. “Somehow that doesn’t seem like you,” he answered. “Even when we were young, you were always very … conscientious in a way.”

“Oh, I like to think that I was.” He took Lorenz’s hand, inspecting it under the now waning lamplight. “But I was more haphazard than you might think. I thought war would at least be easier than … this.” He pressed the palm of Lorenz’s hand to his own jaw and let out a sigh, as if it were an instantaneous analgesic. 

“We all had to grow up rather fast,” Lorenz said. “I don’t think it’s your fault that you were a teenager with teenage ideas of the world.”

“I wish I could be beyond all of that, though,” Claude said, now placing a kiss on Lorenz’s palm. “I wish I could have been prepared for this.” His voice became low, as if he was telling a great secret: “Some days I feel like I can’t even bear it.” 

Lorenz frowned, making out the shreds of his features available to him in the lighting. “You could have fooled me. You always seem so composed about our work.”

“Seem is the operative word.” Claude said, looking downward now. He pulled a hand around Lorenz’s waist, bringing their bodies closer together. When their skin touched, still warm as they spoke, Lorenz felt that rush in his veins continue to course through. 

“Is that why we’re doing this?” Lorenz murmured. He rested his head on Claude’s shoulder. “You want to get your mind off things?”

“Maybe,” Claude said. There was a lilt to his voice that sent ice into Lorenz’s otherwise boiling core. He couldn’t be crying. That was impossible. “I’m terrified that I’ll become like the rest of them. Empty of anything that’s not a thirst for more violence. I want to feel alive in places that aren’t the front lines.” 

“I see,” Lorenz said quietly. He knew that he wasn’t equipped to handle this type of conversation just yet, but perhaps for now it would be enough to listen.

“But don’t think I’m using you,” Claude went on, his tone regaining its footing. “I’d want to have you whether none of this was happening at all.”

Lorenz flinched. His first instinct was that Claude did not mean a word of it, that it was just flattery to keep him in the bed. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Lorenz mumbled. “You could have anyone. I’ve seen how you talk to Byleth, and he’s much more worldly than I’ll ever be. More mysterious, more brilliant. So don’t try to -”

“Byleth?” Claude said, putting his hands through Lorenz’s hair. “No offense, Lorenz, but you’re the one who sounds ridiculous right now.” He punctuated this retort with a kiss to the top of his head to assure it was said with the best of intentions.

“Byleth is our teacher,” he went on. “I’m not endeared to him out of desire, it’s just admiration. In my eyes, he’s just the same as Judith. Though I will give you that he’s more mysterious than any of us, not that that immediately translates to the bedroom for me.” 

He took one of Lorenz’s hands again, putting his lips to the spot on his wrist where his pulse still hummed excitedly just for being next to Claude in such a way. “For what it’s worth, I like that I can see right through you sometimes. Makes it easier to picture you like this when I’m alone.” 

Even in the darkness, Lorenz could see the petulant smirk on his face. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Lorenz said with a frown. “Now are you going to have me, or was all that talk just for show?”

Claude’s silhouette seemed to pause at this boldness, but it didn’t last for long: “Of course.”

Lorenz leaned back as Claude’s mouth began to conquer him once again, Lorenz’s arousal renewing itself forthwith. Claude’s hands, still somehow smooth and kind after years of combat, made their way to Lorenz’s cock, and his partner gasped.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Claude whispered, the smile audible in his voice. 

Lorenz just groaned as he began a slow rhythm, up and down, trying to give him an idea of what was to come. Lorenz thrusted his hips forward, wanting more with every second, unbearably consumed with lust for his leader, the one who was evidently even more complicated than he’d already surmised. Claude put his other hand on one of Lorenz’s thighs, spreading them further and letting his fingers trail down the impossibly delicate skin. 

“You sure you ride horses?” Claude asked in a throaty whisper, feeling the soft flesh as he continued his pace stroking him off. 

“Were you never taught that it’s not nice to play with your food?” Lorenz parried. 

Claude pulled himself downward, evidently fascinated by how susceptible Lorenz could remain among their work. He pressed his lips to the skin he’d just been touching, taking pause to slip his tongue against Lorenz’s throbbing cock.

“Ah!” Lorenz’s hips twitched, and he gripped at the headboard with one hand. 

Claude’s thumb took to the leakage that had begun from the head, swirling it around to ease the friction. He brought his mouth down further, slowly as to test Lorenz’s reaction.

“You’re … Claude, you’re just …” Lorenz found himself frustrated once again, his sentences dissolving completely in a dizziness that was wholly unfamiliar to him. And this was just from the mildest stimulation. Maybe he really was virginal, deep down.

Claude looked up for just a moment, a trail of saliva now between his mouth and Lorenz. Even in the limited light, Lorenz could see him smiling away, one hand parting each thigh so he work efficiently. “Is something wrong?” he asked before throwing in one more stroke of his tongue upon the hot skin.

Lorenz jerked slightly again. “No!” he hissed. “No, it’s … you’re drawing it out.”

Claude raised his eyebrows, his hands idly stroking the skin of Lorenz’s legs still, as if it were relaxing. “Are you saying you want me to rush?” There was that old teasing sound in his voice, and at that moment Lorenz wasn’t sure if he hated it or wanted more.

“I want you to stop playing with me,” he managed. 

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” Claude offered.

Lorenz grimaced. He was, of course, but he still wanted more. Still, how could he just demand that Claude fuck him senseless so easily? 

Claude licked, slowly and methodically, up his shaft once more and sent waves of tortured arousal through Lorenz. He knew what he was doing. They were close enough out of the bedroom for Lorenz to be able to read that on him here. Claude sucked at him now, trying to draw out more chaos from his typically composed (or at least attempting to be) partner.

Lorenz found himself whimpering --  _ whimpering _ , wonderful -- at the feeling of Claude’s mouth, hot and relentless on him. He wasn’t even being given the addition of a well-lit visual, just spare outlines of his form and occasional hums from Claude. He bit down on his lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, and attempted to steel himself. Lorenz, who had been trying so very hard not to be virginal and weak, was now shivering under the threat of an early orgasm. 

“Claude,” he said through the fog, his words straining tight, “you must stop.”

And just like that, he did. Claude’s mouth ceased its diligent work, and he looked up at Lorenz. His hands were now curved to the other side of his legs, holding his thighs apart gently while he knelt down. 

“Is something the matter?” he asked, his voice free of mockery or chaos. It had taken on a trustworthy air. Lorenz wasn’t entirely surprised. Claude would never want to see him hurting, even after years of nipping at each other’s heels while attending the Academy. 

“No, nothing like that,” Lorenz said. “But … if you carry on like this, I’m afraid that I won’t last long.”

He felt nearly ashamed as he said it, as if it was some sin to be so easily had by Claude. Wasn’t that what he had called him earlier in the night? Too sensitive? Even if this wasn’t war at the moment, Lorenz supposed that he had been right in some way all along. Just the feeling of Claude’s mouth and hands had pushed him to the edge.

But if Claude minded, he wasn’t showing it. “Understood,” he said, and he lifted himself up. With his hands, still grasping his legs, he hoisted up Lorenz’s waist so it was close to his. Claude’s cock pressed up to his, and Lorenz had to hold his breath. The idea of this was to  _ not  _ finish prematurely. 

“Have you been with a man before?” Claude asked in a straightforward fashion. He’d gone to his things, across the room, and for a moment Lorenz worried that he was about to be abandoned there. But no, he was rummaging through a rucksack beside the other bed.

“No,” Lorenz said. He left out the part where he technically hadn’t been with anyone. He’d come close a few times, sure, but war splitting open your youth could be detrimental to your experience with sexuality. 

“All right,” Claude said, finally standing up as he procured what he was after. “I’ll take care of things, then. If it gets to be too much, we can stop.”

He made his way back to the bed and positioned himself so he was between Lorenz’s legs once again. 

“What did you get?” he asked.

“Something that helps with the friction,” Claude answered, and Lorenz heard the soft sound of a vessel being uncorked. “It might feel a little strange at first, but it’ll be much more comfortable if we use it.”

Lorenz began to wonder just who Claude had been with to get this experience. He’d spent the whole night brushing off other potential lovers and claiming that Lorenz was apparently so dear to him, but he’d never rejected the idea that he’d never been to bed with others at all. 

Of course, Lorenz was the one who was with him in the bedroom right then, so he figured ultimately that none of that really mattered.

There was a slick sound, and Lorenz saw the silhouette of Claude applying whatever he’d gotten to himself. He had to contain himself then, even the vestigial image of Claude stroking himself just breaths away difficult to witness when he was already on the brink. 

“I’m going to prepare you,” Claude said then, leaning just a bit back towards Lorenz. “Try to relax your body.”

“Prepare me?” Lorenz asked. Claude’s fingers came to his entrance, pressing just slightly as if to indicate the process. Lorenz noticed that they were wet with something, and the cool sensation combined with the intimacy of the contact made him shiver.

“Here,” he said. “So it doesn’t hurt. Ease up your muscles. It’s probably going to feel a little strange at first, so I’m going to take it slow.”

Claude was, as always, true to his word. He eased Lorenz open slowly, his fingers working as gently as possible through the odd sensation. It was, of course, definitely strange for Lorenz, who held his breath at times and made his fair share of stifled sounds through the process, but he trusted Claude completely. If he said this would make things easier, he believed in his heart that it would. 

After a few moments, with Claude stretching him enough to insert new digits, the process began to border on pleasurable. Occasionally, Claude would flex his fingers in such a way that Lorenz felt himself approaching that dangerous edge again. But he held fast, gripping still onto the headboard and driving his head back on the too-stiff dormitory pillow. 

“You’re doing great,” Claude said. “Are you feeling alright?”

Lorenz let out a long exhale and nodded. This whole process was foreign to him, but he felt safe surrounded by Claude’s words and softened by his touch. He was as he had always been, stalwart and thoughtful, even in intimacy. Lorenz finally felt his body achieve a comfort with the process, and he eased into the sheets a little more. Claude had more than proven that he knew what he was doing. 

“Thank you,” Lorenz said softly, not even realizing fully why he was expressing gratitude. 

“I could say the same to you,” Claude said, finally removing his fingers. “You’re a natural.”

It was as if that dark conversation about blood and battle hadn’t even happened, as if this was all that ever was and ever would be: the two of them, close by and whispering to each other that things would be okay. Lorenz thought, in that moment, that he wouldn’t mind a life like the one in that darkened room, stiff bedding and all.

Claude sat up straight on his knees, hoisting Lorenz’s legs closer once again. That wet sound returned, no doubt Claude trying to make sure he could enter as comfortably as possible. Finally, Lorenz felt Claude’s cock positioned at his entrance, and he trembled with anticipation.

“You’re ready, then?” Claude asked, running a hand along Lorenz’s bare abdomen.

“Yes, go on,” Lorenz managed. “Please.”

Claude entered him slowly and cautiously, monitoring Lorenz for any signs of pain. His hand was still om Lorenz’s torso, as if he would be able to feel any problems in his skin. Lorenz merely let out half a grunt, acquainting himself with the pressure and slight discomfort that came with his first penetration. But it was Claude. He was in the best hands.

Once he was inside, Claude sighed and leaned down so their chests were pressed together, burying his face in the crook of Lorenz’s neck.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, and Lorenz sucked in air through his teeth, shutting his eyes as he tried to cope with the array of sensations going through him. 

Claude’s hips twitched slowly at first, but then began a steady pace as he began to fuck Lorenz properly. Lorenz hissed at first, learning to understand the pressure that was building between his legs. It quickly dissolved into something both new and incredible, sending shockwaves through him that he’d never known before. 

Claude was noisier than he’d been all night, letting out groans and small, rough cries. Lorenz was emboldened by the idea that his body could produce such sounds. He wrapped his legs around Claude, beckoning him closer, deeper. Claude sighed hotly onto his skin, quickening his pace. The noises they were making, between their mouths and their skin, were downright obscene. No doubt the more pious soldiers would be scandalized that their fearless leader could be so concupiscent.

Lorenz’s mouth found Claude’s, and they opened into each other. Lorenz mediated, as well as he could in his misted-over thoughts, on what Claude had said earlier. He had been correct -- he had tasted Claude many times, and now all he wanted was to bring him closer, closer, to make their two forms become a whole. In that moment, it felt as if Claude’s body was all he’d ever needed, more than intangible honor or a title on his name. How had he stayed so long so far apart from him? 

“Claude,” he whined against his lips, “Claude …”

“Yes,” Claude said, as if he was answering a question rather than a call. “I know.” He continued to fuck him, his pace slowing and quickening in careful places to make it last. 

His hand went down to Lorenz’s cock, still slick from whatever he’d been using to lubricate himself, and began to stroke him with a fairly rapid pace. Lorenz gasped and let out a keen that he hadn’t expected. He pressed his hands to Claude’s shoulders, gripping onto him like it meant his life.

He continued this series of loose moans as Claude continued to push into him while trying to get him off. Claude went down to bite as his throat again, and Lorenz leaned his head back to let out an unabashed moan. He had no time to think of the consequences. He was drowning in Claude. And besides, he’d wanted to hear him.

He kept letting out Claude’s name as if it was the most important thing, and it felt as if it was. He felt himself getting too close to stop, it was all too much. The heat, the movement of his hands, the way his cock pushed and throbbed inside of him. Lorenz came into Claude’s hand, his choked sounds of release quieter than he’d expected. 

Claude’s pace slowed only slightly to allow him the time to recover, and Lorenz saw him lift one hand to his mouth to taste him further. Lorenz felt like he’d gone someplace entirely divorced from the Monastery. 

Claude continued to fuck him, recapturing his mouth and thrusting with a renewed sense of purpose. He murmured things to Lorenz’s lips, some so quiet that he couldn’t even make them out.

“I’ve wanted this,” he caught, “I’ve wanted you.”

With a few more thrusts, Claude let out an unexpectedly loud shout of pleasure as he finally reached his peak. Lorenz gasped at the feeling of Claude coming inside of him, filling him completely. He grit his teeth and pressed his head back into the pillow, Claude still finding time to gently put his lips to the developing marks on his neck as he managed a few more pliant thrusts.

When Claude pulled out, the haze of their lovemaking had begun to pass and reality was setting in. Lorenz realized that these things were only fleeting, that they’d spend far more time plotting and attacking than being together like this. The thought suddenly made him feel rather sick, and he felt that he finally understood Claude’s restlessness in the first place. Why would he ever want to go back to war when he could just have this?

But, of course, he couldn’t.

Claude laid beside him and kissed his cheekbone. “Thank you,” he said, his voice still roughened. “You were wonderful.”

Lorenz was overwhelmed with the sensation to say something rash and overemotional, to let loose three particular words that would never let them go backward, whether they spent the rest of their lives armored or between bedsheets. Claude was so warm and so kind, right there next to him with his arms holding him as if he were everything meaningful.

But he choked on them. That was simply too much, and he couldn’t be certain that Claude wouldn’t find him a joke if he managed it. Instead, he simply placed his head on Claude’s chest, trying to imprint this feeling into his mind.

They laid there, quiet, unsteady and soft, as the moon crossed the sky. In the morning, they would return to their tired lives and none of this might ever exist again. But just perhaps, they each considered as they gave way to sleep with their skin warm to each other’s, they could find a day when this would be the constant. 

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter is @delmarebeach if you wanna follow!


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